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SIYE Time:17:38 on 28th March 2024
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Curse of the Damned
By melindaleo

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Category: Post-OotP
Characters:All
Genres: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama
Warnings: Death, Violence
Story is Complete
Rating: PG-13
Reviews: 1352
Summary: Seventh year sequel to Power of Emotion. Harry is recovering from his captivity at the end of his sixth year, but he's hiding how much it's effecting him. With his powers increasing, and Voldemort now aware of the prophecy, can Harry find the secret to destroying him before Voldemort learns the contents of the ancient texts? Would this be HP fanfiction if it were that easy?
Hitcount: Story Total: 176140; Chapter Total: 7741







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Disclaimer: I own nothing; it all belongs to J.K.Rowling. I’m just borrowing the characters to play with for a while. This is for pleasure only, no profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.


Chapter Twenty-one


Blizzard



The other Gryffindors joined Harry on the pitch and gathered around him to offer their congratulations. They huddled against the wind in a jubilant circle while flakes of snow peppered their hair. Even Ron, despite their earlier row, seemed to have put everything else aside in light of a Quidditch victory.


"Well, it wasn’t the point spread I’d hoped for, but a win is win," Ron said, his words causing short puffs of smoke to rise into the cold air. It reminded Harry of a dragon, and he had to cover a snicker.


"It’s not like we were ringing up the score in this mess, anyway. Bloody snow in October. There’s still three weeks of Quiddtich season left," Ron said, scowling as if the early snow was a conspiracy against his gameplan.


Harry grinned. He liked how everything else in life still revolved around Quidditch for Ron. It gave Harry a sense of normalcy. Some things would never change.


"Harry, you’re bleeding," Ginny said, pulling his arm out straight and examining the scrape.


"It’s just a scratch, nothing to worry about," he said, glancing at his bloodstained robe. Truth be told, it was rather deep, and it stung painfully. Still, Harry had been back at school for two months and hadn’t had to visit the hospital wing once — he wanted to see how long he could keep that stretch going. His fingers felt numb from the biting cold, and he needed to change out of his sweaty Quidditch robes. Despite the chill, the match had lasted nearly three hours, and he reckoned he smelled rather ripe.


"Did you hear what Luke Donovan said at the end of the match?" Holly asked.


Ron turned toward her. "No, what? I tend to tune him out as soon as he opens his mouth."


Ginny giggled, and Harry imagined how Hermione would have smacked Ron for that comment. It was true, though. It was very difficult to stay focused on Luke Donovan’s voice. Harry had no idea how Luke got the commentator job in the first place, never mind why he hadn’t been replaced yet.


"He said he hoped that the Quidditch scout had seen Harry’s catch. Do you really think there is a Scout here?" Holly asked rather breathlessly. "That would be fantastic."


"A scout? What? When?" Ron said, blinking owlishly.


Ginny reached below his chin and shut his mouth with a snap. "Ron…observant as always, I see. Yes, there was a rumor that there would be a scout here, today. There was one at the Hufflepuff/Ravenclaw match, as well."


Ron looked downright perplexed. "How did I miss that? Why didn’t anyone tell me?"


Harry shrugged. "You didn’t sit with us last match, remember?"


"Didn’t they discuss it in the Hufflepuff stands, or were you otherwise engaged?" Ginny asked with a mischievous twinkle in her eye.


Ron’s ears turned red. "We were watching the match, Ginny. I was looking for weaknesses in both teams for when we play them."


"Watching for weaknesses, is that what it’s called now?" Ginny smirked.


"Shut it, Ginny. So, where is this scout? Which section is he sitting in?" Ron asked.


"All right, Gryffindors," Madam Hooch said, breaking into their circle. "Mr. Potter, there’s a Mister Simon Coffey who would like to speak with you. He’s right over there." She pointed towards the Ravenclaw stands. "I’d suggest you take your team captain with you, Mr. Potter. Best to make an impression," Madam Hooch said with a conspiratorial wink.


Harry’s eyes scanned the stands, a nervous flutter in his stomach. He swallowed before looking at Ron. Ron was bouncing on the balls of his feet, trying to get a better look. Harry covered a smile; Ron was so eager, Harry didn’t think he even remembered that he’d been cross with Harry before the match.


"Right. Ron, d’you want-"


"Follow me, Harry, and keep your mouth shut. Not one word about wanting to be an Auror," Ron hissed as they walked across the pitch. "It can’t hurt to just hear what he has to say. I’m really going to play you up. You just keep your mouth shut and take it. I mean it, Harry. This is no time to be humble…and don’t go all red when I say how good you are, either. We need to make him want you, make it appear like it’ll be the deal of his lifetime. Just nod and smile that little smile you do that makes my mum and sister melt."


Harry furrowed his brow and looked at Ron. "What-"


"Don’t play down anything I’m about to say to him, Harry. And brush your fringe back off your scar."


"Ron!"


"What? You’re the bloody Boy-Who-Lived. Let that legend help you out for a change."


Harry would have argued with Ron further, but they’d already reached the stands. Mr. Coffey stood to greet them, and introductions were made. He was a short wizard, barely reaching Harry’s nose, with oily black hair that he wore slicked back. He reached out to shake both of their hands pleasantly, but Harry got a distinctly dodgy feeling from him.


"Mr. Potter, it’s a great honor to meet you. I’ve been hearing about your talent on the Quidditch pitch for some time now and thought it was time I should see you fly. Nice catch," he said with the cursory glance upward to Harry’s scar, which remained partially hidden behind Harry’s fringe.


"Thanks," Harry said, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his robes.


"Harry’s been on the team since first year — youngest Seeker in a century. He’s only lost one match, and that one was due to extenuating circumstances," Ron said, causing Harry’s cheeks to flush. He tried to will it down, but felt his cheeks growing warmer the more he thought about making them stop.


"Yes. I’ve looked into the statistics of all the current Quidditch players here at Hogwarts. What are your plans after you finish your education, Mr. Potter?" Simon asked.


Harry thought it was a stupid question, considering all the Daily Prophet’s headlines over the past few weeks had concerned his destiny. "Er…"


"Harry obviously has some big plans ahead of him, but afterwards…he’s keeping his options open," Ron said smoothly. Harry raised an eyebrow but Ron ignored him.


"Are you interested in playing professional Quidditch?"


"Er…"


"Do you have a team that’s looking for a Seeker?" Ron asked.


Simon Coffey’s eyes flickered from Harry to Ron before settling on Ron. "Well, the Arrow’s Seeker has been plagued with injuries, so they are looking for a reserve. All the teams generally keep their eyes open for a good Seeker. I’m also beginning recruitment for the English National team."


"How about the Cannons? Their Seeker hasn’t even made a catch in the second half of the season," Ron said, eagerly sitting forward in his seat.


"Well, the Cannons’ entire team still needs strengthening, but they’re improving. They took on a Keeper who left Hogwarts last year, Stephen Reed."


"Right. Good Keeper. I always thought he’d do better as a Beater, though. He had good instincts on where to aim the Quaffle."


"Do you have Seer blood?" Simon asked Ron, startled.


"Seer blood? Me? Nah, bit dodgy, isn’t it?" Ron chuckled.


Harry, who had been concentrating on sitting back and not saying anything, perked up at this line of questioning. "Why do you ask?"


Simon’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Ron appraisingly. "Well, because they switched Reed on the lineup to a Beater position, only no one has seen him play yet."


Ron smiled smugly and crossed his arms across his chest.


"I’m not promising anything. I’m not certain if I have an open spot for you to fill, but if I were to pass your information along, would you be interested?" Simon asked, shrugging his shoulders indifferently.


Harry saw Ron’s eyes light up in anticipation. He stood behind Simon’s shoulder and out of his line of view, nodding vigorously. Harry hadn’t ever seriously considered playing Quidditch professionally. It had only been a fantasy after the World Cup. Truthfully, there was nothing he enjoyed more. After this battle with Voldemort — if he lived — maybe he should consider doing nothing but playing for the sheer thrill of it for a while.


"I’d have to see an offer," he said, feeling proud when he saw Ron give a thumbs-up signal.


"Very well, then. It’s been a pleasure to meet both of you," Simon said. "I’ll be in touch."


Both Harry and Ron watched him walk away before Ron shouted jubilantly, "Yes!"


Harry chuckled. "Well, that was unexpected."


"Only for you, mate," Ron replied. "Come on, Harry. You were the youngest Seeker in a century. Everyone else expected someone from the Department of Magical Games and Sports to take notice eventually. And he’s looking for both the League and the English National team. That would be brilliant."


"I don’t know. Playing for England would be great, but it would mean travelling a lot," he said, thinking that if he did manage to defeat Voldemort, he really wanted to find a place of his own. A place to call home. He wasn’t certain why it seemed so important. But it did.


"Harry, how long have you known you were a wizard? You’re still thinking like a Muggle. Long distance means nothing. You can have a match in Romania in the morning and simply Apparate back to your flat by lunch. All you need is an international Apparation license. After you save the world — again — I can’t see them denying you that."


Harry looked at Ron carefully. He didn’t appear to be upset by the scout’s interest, so maybe this would be a good time to revisit their earlier argument. "Ron, about Sirius’s will."


"Forget about it."


"But-"


"Harry…it’s not from you, it’s from Sirius, right? If Sirius had left me a bucketload full of galleons, I’d have helped Mum and Dad out, too. Now…this Quidditch idea. You don’t want to play for the Arrows — their uniforms are too feminine. You’d do much better on a rougher team."


"Like the Cannons?" Harry asked, grinning. "No thanks, I want to win."


Ron shoved Harry’s shoulder none-too-lightly. "As if they’d want you. They need someone with experience."


Harry returned the shove. "Yeah…experience getting clobbered."


"Tosser."


"Pra t."



 


By the time Ron and Harry had returned to the locker room to shower and change — and Harry had a chance to put a bandage on his arm — the rest of the team had already left. As they were about to leave, however, Ginny emerged from the girls’ locker room. She was rather pale, and Harry thought her eyes looked red-rimmed, as if she’d been crying.


"All right, Ginny?" he asked immediately.


"Can I talk to you a minute?" she asked. "Alone."


"I’ll meet you two back in the common room," Ron said, for once taking the hint.


Harry took Ginny’s hand and led her over to the bench in front of his locker. "What happened, Ginny? What’s wrong?"


Ginny sniffed and swiped her hand beneath her nose angrily. "I wanted to talk to you about that article in Witch Weekly this morning."


Harry groaned inwardly. When she’d approached him before the match, he’d thought she’d moved past her anger. Obviously not. "I’m sorry, Ginny. I really am. You’ve got to understand — most of the things they print about me aren’t true. By being my girlfriend…well, this probably isn’t the last time they’ll have something nasty to say. I’m really sorry, Ginny." He was, too. It was bad enough that they thought he was fair game for their silly speculation, but for them to hurt Ginny’s feelings made his blood boil. "I’ll send an owl to the editor and demand a retraction, okay? The only thing is…I’m not certain that won’t make it worse."


"No. Harry, you misunderstood. I was angry at first about the comment about chasing you for your money. But…well, that was just my pride, and I do know you don’t see me that way," Ginny said, shaking her head.


"Of course not."


"That’s not what I’m worried about. While you were outside, parts of that article kept running through my head, and I realized it’s right."


"What?"


Ginny shook her head again and stood up. She began pacing in front of him like a cat on the prowl. "Let me finish. It said something about you having your pick of women after you defeat Voldemort."


"If I defeat Voldemort."


"When you defeat him. I never really thought about it, but it’s true. There will be women throwing themselves at you everywhere. I bet that’s what Cho was doing at Charlie’s service. She’d joined the Order by then, so she knew about the prophecy. I know you love me, Harry…but you’ll have all these beautiful witches throwing themselves at you and…and…"


"You’re beautiful, Ginny, and you’re everything I’ve ever needed. No other woman is going to hold a candle to you," Harry said, smiling softly at her insecurity. This was the one and only part of his life where he was completely certain about his feelings — he never intended to let her go.


"Come off it, Harry; I’m not that special, and I have bright red hair…"


"I like red hair. I like how it shines when the sun touches it…and how soft it is. I’ve always noticed your hair, Ginny."


Ginny ignored him completely. "I’m too short."


"I’m short. We fit together quite nicely."


She continued as if he hadn’t spoken. "I’m not exactly what you would call well-endowed."


Harry grinned. "They seem just fine to me, and I’m quite fascinated by them."


Ginny giggled at him. "Harry! I’m serious."


"I know you are, which is what is worrying me. What is all this about, Ginny?" Harry asked.


Ginny sighed and sank back down onto the bench next to him. "It’s not that I don’t trust you, Harry. It’s just… I don’t know. I feel confident here at Hogwarts. We’re well suited, and we have a lot in common here. But…once you’ve left, I’m not so certain. I still have another whole year of school left. A year without you, while you’ll be out doing all kinds of different things and being in the spotlight. Look at how they’re trying to get at you now, even while you’re still in school. Any witch would be happy to get her claws into you.


"No offense, Harry, but you’ve been kind of sheltered here when it comes to women. You’ll be out there with glamorous, self-assured witches who are already out in the world making their mark. How can I compete with that?"


Harry took her chin between his fingers and forced her to look at him. "You don’t have to compete with anyone, Ginny." Harry shook his head, searching for the words to make her understand. "When Ron and I were outside with the scout, he mentioned searching for players for the English team. I had some reservations about all the traveling before Ron so subtly reminded me about Apparation."


Ginny snorted.


Grinning, Harry continued, "The reason I was hesitant was because I thought I wanted a place to call home, not to live out of a trunk. But I’ve realized something, sitting here with you. Home isn’t really a place. It doesn’t matter where I hang my hat…home is with you. You are my home, Ginny. I need you in my life. None of the rest of it means anything without you."


"Oh, Harry," Ginny said, sniffling.


"Did I make you cry?" Harry asked incredulously. "Bugger! Ginny, I was trying to make you feel better."


"Shut it, you great big prat," Ginny said, before launching herself at him and causing him to fall back along the bench. She rolled back with him, never breaking contact with his lips and proceeded to snog him senseless. Whatever he’d been about to say flew out of his head as all his senses became overly aware of the small girl who’d pinned him to the bench. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer. His glasses were askew, but he didn’t care. He simply wanted to concentrate on the delicious sensations that were running through him as her tongue did a furious tango with his own.


He could smell the sweet wildflower scent of her shampoo as he tugged on the clasp holding her ponytail in place. Her hair spilled around him and cascaded over his face like a silken tent.


Harry knew he only had a tentative grip on his control and had to slow this down a bit. He pushed her back slightly and tried to pull away, but she held firm. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he physically removed her and slid out from under her. Panting, he began to pace back and forth in front of the bench while trying to cool his raging hormones.


"Harry," she said, dazed and sounding breathless. He looked over at her sitting on the bench, her brow knit in confusion. Her hair was in disarray and spilling wildly down her shoulders. Her lips looked pouty and swollen from kissing.


Harry swallowed and forced his eyes away. "Sorry, Ginny. If we didn’t stop, I wouldn’t have been able to in another minute," he gasped.


"Oh," Ginny said, perplexed. "Ohhhhh," she repeated, her eyebrows shooting upwards when she realized his predicament.


Once he’d regained a small semblance of control over his instincts, Harry moved back down towards her and stood in front of her, leaning back against the lockers. "Ginny, I need to tell you something."


Ginny took both his hands in her own as she gazed up at him. "What is it?" she asked with a slight frown.


"Not to worry…I just don’t want you to doubt how important you are to me," Harry said, locking his eyes with hers and gently smoothing her frizzed hair. "Ginny, it doesn’t matter if I’m here at Hogwarts or not — you are the one I want to be with, forever. For however long — or short — a time that’s going to be."


"Don’t talk like that Harry." Ginny stood and placed her hands on both sides of his face. Tears glittered in her eyes as she spoke intently. "You’re going to be around for a long, long time. You’re going to win this thing, because my love — all of the love that we all feel for you — is going to make certain of that. Voldemort couldn’t handle the love you felt for all of us. He’s in for one hell of a shock when he feels all the love that the rest of us feel for you."


Harry kissed her softly and said in a gruff voice, "Do you have any idea at all what you’ve done for me? You showed me I wasn’t alone…when I was feeling my loneliest. You taught me how to feel, when I’d spent my whole life learning to bury my feelings. You showed me how to love, and be loved in return, when I’d always wondered what love even meant.


"You’ve given me confidence in me — that you’ll be there to catch me if I fall, and that you’ll stay even if I mess up. You love me despite the scars, and I don’t mean the one that shows…and I don’t think I can ever make you understand. I don’t think I can ever find the words to tell you how much you’ve helped me grow.


"If I can do this, Ginny, and I sincerely hope I can, it’s because you’ve shown me the possibility of a life I only dreamed about before you. That once the Boy-Who-Lived has met his fate…that there will still be a life for me…for Harry."


Harry’s voice was cracked and hoarse, and Ginny had tears streaking her cheeks once again. He moved to take her in his arms but was stopped by the force of the smack upside the head she inflicted upon him.


"Ginny! What the-"


"Don’t you dare think that counts as any kind of goodbye speech, Harry Potter, because I refuse to accept it if is. I won’t say goodbye. If you meant what you said, then you owe me…and you’d better come back to me," Ginny said, her eyes blazing.


Harry chuckled and wrapped his arms around her. "Well…I didn’t plan it as a goodbye speech, but if I had, I’m fairly certain that wouldn’t have been the reaction I’d have expected."


Ginny glared at him for a moment. He tried to keep his face serious, knowing she was truly upset, but he felt his lip twitch, and soon he couldn’t hold the laughter back. Ginny started to giggle quietly at first, before she, too, was helpless in her mirth. Harry held on to his stomach as he laughed. Ginny’s giggles sounded musical in the emptiness of the locker room. He pulled her closer and nuzzled her ear. Ginny sighed and turned her head to give him better access to her neck.


Harry began to trail kisses along her throat. She dug her fingers into his hair and pulled him closer. Harry pushed her back against the lockers and kissed her fully on the mouth. She moaned in the back of her throat, and it drove him wild. He deepened the kiss as he ran his fingers through her soft hair. She quickly returned his ardor as he moved his hands beneath her jumper. His breath hitched as his hands unexpectedly came in contact with the soft, bare skin on her back. It was quite some time before they returned to the castle.



 


When a very disheveled Harry returned to the castle later that night, he found Ron lying on his bed, tossing a Quaffle in the air repeatedly. Harry smoothed his hair nervously and hoped Ron wouldn’t ask him where he’d been and why he’d missed the feast. He didn’t feel like lying to Ron, but he didn’t particularly want to tell him he’d been busy heavily kissing his sister, either.


"All right, Ron?" he asked, not making eye contact while he placed his broom in his trunk.


Ron grunted noncommittally.


Harry looked over at his friend finally and noticed that he was staring intently at his Charms textbook. "Ron," Harry repeated.


Ron finally looked up. "Oh, hey, Harry. Have you finished your Charms essay?"


Harry scratched his head. It wasn’t typical of Ron to worry overly much about homework. "Yeah, why?" he asked, digging out his essay and handing it to Ron.


"Thanks. I never realized how much Hermione helped me with my homework. I mean…I knew she helped…I suppose I just never really thought about it," Ron said.


Harry nodded slowly. "Yeah. She’s bailed both of us out a lot."


"I know. At first — after we broke up — it was almost like I needed to prove to her that I could do things without her help. Now, all my marks are slipping, and I can’t depend on her to help me."


Harry sat on his bed and looked over at his friend. "I’m certain if you simply told her that you needed some help, she wouldn’t refuse."


"I know she wouldn’t. That’s what makes it stink. If I thought she’d get all pissy and still not help, it’d be easier to stay mad. But she wouldn’t do that. She’d still get pissy with me, but she’d also help. I wish I could just take advantage of her and not care — like I used to do."


"But you do care about her, Ron," Harry said softly. He and Ron never really talked about this emotional stuff, and it felt awkward doing so now. "Just tell her."


Ron shook his head. "I bollixed things up too badly. She’s with Boot now, and I’m seeing Hannah. She’s a nice girl who goes along with everything I say. I should love that, right?"


"Do you?"


"No," Ron said, sighing. "I miss the way Hermione always challenges me."


Harry pulled out some of his own homework and began to head back towards the common room. Before he left, he said, "Ron, it took you at least four years to get up the courage to finally ask Hermione out in the first place. Don’t let it take another four to fix this…or it might be too late."



 


The cold weather that had begun on Halloween continued through much of November. A thin layer of snow covered the ground uninterrupted throughout the month. Professor McGonagall continued to divert Harry’s mail, although, thankfully, the number of letters had lessened slightly since the original reading of the prophecy. Of course, the article in Witch Weekly hadn’t helped, and Harry found himself the recipient of both several marriage proposals, as well as some accusations of being a fraud.


Inside the castle, Harry continued his training. Percy attended each lesson, tight-lipped and appearing extremely put out, but he hadn’t mentioned the Killing Curse again. Harry suspected there had been a battle of wills between Fudge and Professor Dumbledore, and Dumbledore had come out the winner. Harry didn’t know for certain and couldn’t find the energy to ask. He needed to focus and couldn’t worry about the frustrations of Percy Weasley.


Harry’s classmates became preoccupied with the approach of Christmas, making Harry wonder what it would be like to be able simply to push thoughts of the war away like that. Regardless of the reason for their distraction, Harry was thankful for it, since it finally gave him a bit of breathing room. If one more person had stopped him in the corridor to ask when he thought he’d be taking on Voldemort — or You-Know-Who, as they still insisted upon calling him — Harry thought he would have screamed. And the female population of the school kept approaching him with alarming frequency, despite the glares he often caught Ginny giving them.


Ron hadn’t taken any steps to rectify things with Hermione, but Harry suspected he had stopped seeing Hannah. Ron never made any announcement about it, but Harry noticed that he no longer disappeared in the evenings and instead did homework with him and Ginny. He was proud of his friend for at least doing the right thing by Hannah; now if he’d just take the next step with Hermione.


It was towards the end of November, when Professor Dumbledore made an announcement about a Hogsmeade weekend, that Harry got the full story. Both Harry and Ron had been told they needed to remain in the castle, and Ginny had agreed to stay without an argument. Harry suspected the attack at the Ministry had frightened her more than she was willing to admit. Hermione, however, was going into town with Terry Boot, and Ron wasn’t happy about the situation.


Harry and Ron were lying in their bunks in the dormitory on Saturday morning, while the rest of Gryffindor tower hurriedly planned for the excursion.


"What is she thinking, going into Hogsmeade today?" Ron asked for the hundredth time since he’d learned of Hermione’s plans.


"She feels that if it’s safe for the rest of the students, it’s safe for her, as well. As Head Girl, she thought she should be there," Harry repeated, still feeling guilty for not attending. Professor Dumbledore had insisted that he was too much of a target. Harry consoled himself with the thought that the other students would actually be in less danger without him there than if he accompanied them.


"What does she see in that lame-duck Ravenclaw, anyway? I always thought he was a poofer."


Harry grinned. "Obviously not."


"I think Professor Dumbledore is mad for allowing it. Everyone knows she’s our best friend," Ron said grumpily.


"Ron, when are you going to get around to telling her that you still care about her?" Harry asked wearily. He was tired of seeing his two friends dance around each other again. They were both so stubborn.


"Drop it, Harry."


"What did Hannah say when you told her you weren’t going into Hogsmeade today?" Harry asked, raising his eyebrow and waiting to see Ron’s reaction.


Ron shrugged and mumbled, "We’re not really seeing each other anymore."


Harry covered his smile and tried to act nonchalant. "Really? Since when?"


"Oh, give it up, Harry. I know you’ve suspected it, and I’m certain Ginny put you up to getting the details. I just told Hannah that it wasn’t working. She seemed relieved, and said she was glad I didn’t think so, either. To be honest…I think she sort of fancies Neville."


"Neville?"


"Yeah …she’s been asking after him…and they both take Herbology together."


Harry thought about it for a moment. "Hmm. Weird. Listen, are you going to come up to the Room of Requirement to visit with Remus and Tonks today?"


Remus had contacted Harry through the mirror to say he had some business in Hogsmeade and would like to meet for lunch. Since Harry couldn’t go to the village, Remus and Tonks had suggested meeting here. Harry was anxious to see how they were doing since Charlie’s death and what had happened on Remus’s assignment. The older man had been remarkably tight-lipped about it.


"Yeah. What time?" Ron asked.


"Around eleven," Harry said.


"Good. I can sleep for another couple hours," Ron replied, turning back over in his bed. Harry shook his head and got up to take a shower. Unlike Ron, he’d never get back to sleep now.



 


Harry waited in the common room for both Ron and Ginny to come downstairs. He’d gone to the owlry to visit Hedwig while both his friends had a lie-in. It was now nearly eleven, and Harry was anxious to see Remus. He hoped he might get some more information on Lucius Malfoy’s whereabouts or what the rest of the Order was doing these days. Harry’s scar had been prickling uncomfortably all morning, and he feared Voldemort was up to something.


"Hey there, you," Ginny said as she skipped down the stairs. She wore a white frilly blouse and Muggle jeans that seemed to cling to every curve. Harry was mesmerized, watching her approach. "Earth to Harry," Ginny said, obviously amused.


Harry shook his head to clear it, but it only made the pain in his head worse. He winced, and Ginny noticed it immediately.


"All right, Harry?" she asked.


"Yeah," Harry replied. "It was just a twinge."


"Where’s Ron?" Ginny asked.


"He hasn’t come down yet. He’s taking longer than a bloody girl," Harry snapped. He suddenly felt shivery and rather ill. He wished Ron would hurry up and come downstairs so they could leave.


"You don’t look well, Harry," Ginny said coming towards him.


Suddenly, Harry’s head throbbed as if he’d been struck with a Bludger. Pain sliced through his head as if an axe had neatly cleaved him in half. A feeling of euphoria overtook him. Finally! He could hear giddy, jubilant laughter growing louder and louder and ringing in his ears.


A sudden douse of cold water snapped him out of it, and the giddy laughter died in his throat. He was lying on the floor in the common room, his scar throbbing painfully. Ron stood above him, holding an empty water pitcher with a terrified expression on his face.


"What happened?" he asked, kneeling down next to Harry and helping him to a seated position.


Ginny knelt on his other side and gingerly touched his vivid scar. He hissed with pain and pulled away from her touch. "Ouch."


"Harry, what happened?" Ginny repeated.


"I dunno. He’s thrilled with something," Harry said, panting. The pain was still excruciating, and he held his head in his hands. "I didn’t get a vision, just the feeling. I don’t even want to think about what is making him that happy."


"Should we go tell Dumbledore?" Ron asked.


"No. Let’s go see Remus first. He’ll probably want to tell Dumbledore, anyway," Harry replied. He didn’t want to take the chance of not getting to see Remus at all. Ron helped him to stand, and the three of them climbed out of the portrait hole. By the time they reached the Room of Requirement, Harry was leaning heavily on Ron. In actuality, he suspected Ron was supporting more of his weight than he was, but he simply felt too ill to care.


The door was already open, and Remus and Tonks were waiting inside. They both rushed towards the others when they saw Harry’s condition. Remus put his arm under Harry’s other shoulder and helped Ron lead him to the couch. His former teacher’s eyes rapidly scanned over him and appeared to come to the conclusion that he’d be all right.


"What happened?" he asked.


"Voldemort," Ginny replied, her voice sounding very small and frightened. "We were in the common room, and Harry didn’t look well. He suddenly collapsed and started laughing this horrible, maniacal laughter. It was frightening," Ginny said with a small sob. Tonks moved next to her and wrapped her arm around Ginny’s shoulder. Harry could see that Ginny was trying not to cry, and he wanted to reassure her that he was fine. He still couldn’t form the words; his head was throbbing fit to burst.


"He was on the ground laughing when I came down the stairs," Ron said, finishing Ginny’s story. "I threw some water on his face, and it seemed to bring him ‘round. Sorry, mate."


Harry nodded weakly and reached his hand towards Ginny. "I’m all right," he gasped.


She took his hand and sat next to him. "No, you’re not. He said Voldemort was really happy about something," she told Remus and Tonks.


"Did you get a vision?" Remus asked.


"Happy about what?" Tonks asked at the same time.


Harry was afraid that if he opened his mouth to answer he’d throw up, so he settled for shaking his head slightly.


"He told us there was no vision. He just knew that he was really happy. He was laughing as if he’d gone mad. I haven’t seen him do that since the Lestranges broke out of Azkaban," Ron said.


"Do you want to go to the hospital wing, Harry? I’m certain Madam Pomfrey could give you something to help you sleep. I’ll go inform Professor Dumbledore," Remus said.


"No," Harry said. "I’m all right, just a headache now. Potions won’t help this kind of headache, anyway. I want to stay and visit with you."


Tonks and Remus shared a look above Harry’s head. Both of them appeared extremely concerned, and Harry wanted to assure them that he was fine.


"You stay and visit, and I’ll go and see if Professor Dumbledore is available," Tonks said. "I’m not positive that he’s even in the castle today."


Tonks left them all to take seats around a roaring fire that the room had thoughtfully provided. Harry lay back on the couch while the others settled around him. "Well, tell me what’s been happening with you lot," Remus said in an overly cheerful voice.


"I’d like to know how Harry’s dad, Sirius and Pettigrew became Animagi on their own when I can’t even do it under a teacher’s direction," Ginny said, sounding cross.


Remus laughed. "Well, James and Sirius both weren’t your typical students, and it took them years to do it. You’ve only been at it for a few weeks. As for Peter…Sirius kept threatening to hex his bits if he didn’t stick with it," Remus said, laughing. "It’s amazing what a teenage boy will do under constant threat to that part of his anatomy."


Ron burst into laughter, but Harry barely managed a grin. He was so tired, he thought he’d just close his eyes for a while…



 


The first thing Harry became aware of was a spasm of pain in his neck that he got from sleeping at a strange angle. The next thing was the soft murmur of voices nearby that he didn’t immediately recognize. His eyes opened quickly, and, without moving to indicate he was awake, he scanned the room. It was unrecognizable to him, although he identified the voices as belonging to Remus and Tonks, who were sitting together in an easy chair by a crackling fire.


Memories of his collapse in the common room and his stumbling walk up to the Room of Requirement flooded back to him. He supposed he was still in the Room of Requirement. He must have fallen asleep. Great. After looking forward to his visit with Remus for days, he went and slept through it.


He groaned slightly, alerting Remus and Tonks that he was awake


"Hey, kid," Tonks said. "If I didn’t know for a fact that I’m great company, I think I’d be insulted."


"You?" Remus asked. "At least you have the excuse of being out of the room when he nodded off. I believe I was in the middle of a very entertaining story. Might have to work on my delivery."


Harry smiled weakly. "Sorry."


"How are you feeling?" Remus asked.


"Okay, I think. My head feels much better," Harry said.


"Good. I told Professor Dumbledore what happened. He came back here with me, but obviously he didn’t wake you. He said to inform him if you remembered anything else, but as of now…we have no idea why he was so happy," Tonks said.


"Professor Snape was with him yesterday, and he didn’t know of anything specific. He was going to see if he could find anything out, but we haven’t heard back from him yet," Remus said.


Harry nodded and raised himself to a seated position. "It can’t be good. He was too happy…jubilant, really. It must be something really bad for our side."


"Don’t get stressed over it, Harry. What’s coming will come, and we’ll deal with it when it does," Remus said, wrapping his arm around Harry’s shoulders.


Harry looked up at him. "Easier said than done."


"I know. But you’re doing the best thing you can right now. Continue your education and continue your training. You’re doing an amazing job, Harry. Your parents would be so proud of the young man you’ve become."


Harry smiled softly and ducked his head. "Thanks, Remus."


"Look, I don’t mean to break this up, but we really need to get out of the castle before all those little twerps return from Hogsmeade, Remus. It would be best if we weren’t seen here," Tonks said, guiding Remus off the couch.


"I’m really sorry I missed your whole visit," Harry said. "You two seem like you’re doing well." Harry didn’t want to ask them outright if they were getting along, but the fact that they were here together and snuggling on a chair had to be a good sign, right?


"We’re both doing well, Harry. Don’t worry about us," Remus said with a smile.


Tonks winked at him. "Better than well," she whispered as she walked past him.


He walked them to the stairway, where they went down, and he went up. He entered the common room to find Ron, Ginny and Hermione sitting by the fireplace deep in conversation.


"Harry!" Hermione shouted, being the first to spot him. She couldn’t have been there for very long, since she still wore her cloak and snowflakes dusted her hair and shoulders.


"Is it snowing?" Harry asked, amazed. He turned to look out the window and saw the tiny white flakes. They were so small it almost looked like rain, but the landscape was rapidly being covered in a layer of crisp, white snow.


"Yeah, it started a little while ago, but it’s really coming down hard. They started prodding everyone back towards the castle early," Hermione said.


"How was it?" Harry asked.


"Never mind that — how are you?" Hermione asked. "Did you talk to Professor Dumbledore? What did he say? Did you remember anything else?"


Obviously, Ron and Ginny had filled her in on their afternoon. He noticed Ron shrugging apologetically over Hermione’s head, and he scowled at him.


"I’m fine, Hermione. How was your date with Terry?" Harry asked, shooting a glare at Ron. This time it was Ron’s turn to scowl.


"What? Oh, it was…fine. Harry, you’ll never believe what I found. Look," she said, dragging an old, dusty book from her bag.


"You found a book, Hermione? Who would have ever suspected that?" Harry said dryly, causing Ginny to cover a snigger.


"It’s not just a book, Harry. Look at the title. Of course, you won’t be able to read it, because it’s written in Ancient Runes, but it’s the same Runes as the text where we found the Curse of the Damned. I saw it in an antique shop, and I knew it looked familiar. It was only after we left that I remembered, and I ran back to purchase it. I haven’t had the chance to look through it yet, but maybe there will be more information."


"Wow, Hermione. Excellent," Harry said, amazed that she had the presence of mind to distinguish between the scribbles of the Runes.


"You went looking at antiques on your date?" Ron asked incredulously.


"Yes, Ronald," Hermione said with a glare. "Not everyone finds old books as loathsome as you do." Raising her nose in the air, Hermione took her book and went up to her dormitory to change out of her wet clothes, leaving a gobsmacked Ron in her wake.



 


The snow that had started during the Hogsmeade visit turned into a full-fledged blizzard that continued right through Sunday. Harry barely slept at all on Saturday night, because the wind was so loud as it howled against the walls of the castle. When it was all said and done, nearly a full meter of snow had fallen, and the grounds of Hogwarts took on a magical quality all their own.


The snow-encased trees along the forest’s edge glittered in unblemished whiteness, making it appear as if tiny crystals were embedded in the snow. It was a breathtaking sight to behold. Both Professor Sprout and Hagrid had cancelled their classes on Monday, while Hagrid cleared some paths across the grounds and out to the greenhouses. The vast majority of students had trouble paying attention in their classes on Monday, as they were all anxious to get outside and into the snow.


Since it had remained bitterly cold throughout the storm, the snow was light and fluffy. It was not at all the kind of snow that was good for making snowballs or snowmen. Instead, a large hill was magically raised near the Quidditch pitch, and students began retrieving toboggans and sleds from an old shed near the bottom of the hill. The shed conveniently refilled itself each time the last sled was taken.


Harry was beside himself with anticipation. He’d sneaked rides on Dudley’s toboggan when he was younger whenever he could, but this would be the first time he could enjoy himself without worrying about getting caught. Luckily for him, he didn’t have a session with Abe that afternoon. He waited for Ginny to finish her final class of the day, and the two of them bundled up and headed towards the hill.


Harry ignored the neat paths Hagrid had made, instead using warming charms to create his own. He’d spent years suffering through backbreaking shoveling while living with the Dursleys in his younger years. What he wouldn’t have given to have been able to perform these spells then. He enjoyed getting them to the shed his own way, despite Ginny’s exasperation.


Ginny chose an inflatable tube rather than a traditional wooden toboggan or plastic sled. She insisted it would be the fastest. Harry didn’t really have a preference, and he liked the idea of speed, so he went along with her. Her cheeks were already red from the biting wind, and she wore big, fluffy, pink mittens that she insisted were the warmest she’d ever owned.


The two climbed to the top of the hill, and Harry plopped himself down on the tube. Ginny sat in front of him, and he wrapped his arms around her. The hill was already clearly marked with tracks from other sleds, and it was crowded despite the chill.


"Ready?" Harry asked.


"Ready," Ginny said, giggling. Harry pushed off in the snow and whooped with joy as they careened down the hill. The tube spun crazily as it hurtled down the steep slope.


At the very bottom, someone had built a slight incline so when the tube hit it, they actually caught air before dropping back to the ground. Harry hadn’t expected that, and it caught him by surprise. His momentary loss of balance was enough to tip the tube on its side, and the two of them fell face-first into the snow.


Ginny sat up, spluttering and wiping the snow off her eyes. It stuck in clumps to her eyelashes, and Harry couldn’t help but laughing, although he was certain he looked no better.


"Laugh it up, Potter," Ginny said with a scowl. "Next time, I’m steering, since you can’t seem to keep your seat."


"Oh, is that a challenge?" Harry asked playfully.


"Take it as you will," Ginny replied, raising her chin.


He stood up and grabbed the tube. "To the top of the mountain," he cried as if leading a battle charge. Ginny giggled and followed him up the hill.


They took several more runs down before they again flipped the sled over. Harry was lying on his back trying to catch his breath, and Ginny crawled over to him and kissed him soundly on the lips. He wrapped his arms around her and rolled so that she was pinned underneath him.


Her brown eyes sparkled and radiated enough warmth to melt an iceberg. He leaned down to kiss her again when another sled sped past them and knocked Harry to the side with its force.


Oomph," Harry said, having the wind knocked out of him.


"That’s what you get for snogging my sister in public, mate," Ron’s gleeful voice cackled.


"Oh, you’re going to pay for that, Weasley," Harry said, leaping up and hurling himself on top of Ron to shove a pile of snow down his neck.


The friends enjoyed the day; it was a peaceful start to the holiday season and a chance to escape from the coming gloom.



 


A/N: Okay, this was mostly a fluffy chapter, but I liked it. To those of you who enjoy the fluff, I hope you liked it, too. The next chapter will take place over the Christmas holidays and also contains some fluff. To those of you who prefer the angst and action, don’t worry. You’re turn is fast approaching.


Thanks, as always, go to my beta Mistral for all her time and effort in getting this ready for you all to see. Huge thanks as well to Dianne, for faithfully reviewing content and flow for me and helping make sure I didn’t forget anything.


Quick note about the Rita Skeeter article last chapter. I DO know that Ginny’s name is Ginevra. If you noticed, Hermione, Ginny and Luna ALL had their names printed incorrectly by Ms. Skeeter. Only Cho’s was right. She was the only one with a direct quote, as well…



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